


Rain

by Sitrus



Series: Dragon age stuff [6]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: (never), Coughing, Fever, M/M, Sickfic, anders sucks at self-care, but also doesn't when it's for Hawke's sake, once again this is totally unedited, when will I stop being lazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:36:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sitrus/pseuds/Sitrus
Summary: A day's hike in pounding rain is not what you should be doing when you are already sick but there are times when that's the best alternative.





	Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This actually a part two to "On the Road" (https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331695) which I recently posted but I wanted to make this its own submission because this is way longer than the first part...

The following morning was slow for most of them. Hawke, Aveline and Fenris all woke up at their usual on-road times and none of them objected to letting Anders sleep in. He needed the rest, every minute of it, especially after half a night of mostly coughing and trying to sleep despite the congestion. Hawke had been awake for most of it, listening to him shifting and turning, sniffling and trying and failing to supress the worsening coughs. Eventually he had fallen into more peaceful sleep but it had been almost dawn by then.

The three of them were chatting quietly by their campfire when they heard Anders sneeze, letting them know he’d woken up. The sounds of him moving around inside his tent were followed by a long, productive nose blow and a fit of equally productive coughs. After a while Anders emerged with his on-go bag of herbs and other ingredients on one hand and sat down next to Hawke by the fire.

“We need to get going”, he said. His voice sounded worse than the night before; hoarse to the point it hurt Hawke to listen, and congested despite the lengthy blow just moments before. He didn’t look any healthier either. 

Anders rummaged through his bag, tossing some herbs in his mug and pouring some of the water Hawke had heated up on top. He set the mug down and stood up.

“You should have woken me up”, he said. “The storm’s almost on us. I’m sure you can feel it in the air as well. We could have got further away before it reaches us.”

“You needed the rest”, Hawke responded. What Anders said was true: The air was humid and heavy with the rising storm. The wind was picking up.

“He’s got a point, Hawke. None of us need to get trapped in the rain and wind. Or to get hit by lightning”, Aveline said. She hadn’t protested them waiting a little longer and she agreed that Anders needed all the rest he could get, but the changing weather was making her feel more pressure to get moving, to get them to the city. She thought it unlikely that they’d reach the city before night but camping in the storm was hardly an option.

“We agreed to wait and it’s a little too late to change the plans now”, Hawke said. He turned on his seat to watch Anders get back in his tent and re-emerge after packing all that needed packing.

“Can you travel?” Hawke asked, earning a congested huff from Anders.

Anders packed his tent and put his things ready before sitting back down, picking up the mug and responding: “Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be as ready as ever.”

Anders stirred the drink a little, let the water soaked herbs fall back down to the bottom, and downed it all in one go. He coughed afterwards, clearly meaning it to be one quick, throat-clearing cough but the first one lead to another which lead to several more. He rubbed his chest through his robes once the fit was over, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh. 

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Aveline asked. “You look bad and sound even worse.”

“I’m sure”, Anders said. “I don’t feel that bad and once the drink kicks in I’ll feel even better.”

Hawke suspected that was a lie but didn’t say anything. If Anders wanted them to think he wasn’t as sick as he was, to pretend they couldn’t see how his hands trembled or hear the congestion in every breath he took, then Hawke was going to let it be. For now. Even if he would have preferred to make Anders rest more before continuing their hike back to the city the storm was still a reality and they’d need to move fast if they wanted to stay dry and warm for more than half the journey.

In just a few minutes they had everything packed and the fire put out and were making their way back to the road. What ever herbs Anders had put in his drink (elfroot and spindelweed, Hawke assumed) made a clear difference: he was still far from being fine, but he didn’t need as many breaks to cough as Hawke had assumed, and they were able to keep walking longer than they usually would in hopes of saving time before he needed to stop for a proper break. 

Shortly after they continued walking the rain hit them. It quickly soaked through them, made all of them feel the autumn chill with new ferocity. Determined to get as close to the city before nightfall as they could, they walked in relative silence for most of the remaining journey. Even thought the rain and cold gave fuel to Anders’ illness he, too, seemed to find new strength to push himself to keep walking faster and further, so much so that after a while Hawke stopped paying attention to the sound of his increased sniffling and the occasional sneezes and coughs.

They had a small break somewhere in the middle of their marching but didn’t stop properly before the evening started turning into night. They were maybe an hour and half from the city gates and none of them wanted to stop there no matter how exhausted they were. Or Anders was. The walk had been long and intense but Hawke didn’t feel too tired and he assumed that his warrior friends had the stamina to go on even further than the city if need be. But in another half an hour the night, without the aid of the moon and stars, would be so dark they wouldn’t be able to see ahead. Ten minutes and it would be dark to set up camp.

“Maybe we really need to camp here for the night”, Hawke said. He looked from one of his team mates to another.

“And how exactly are we going to manage that, Hawke? The wind is likely to destroy our tents and we can’t light up a fire to keep warm”, Aveline argued back.

“Do you suggest we walk all the way from here to the city, then? It will soon be so dark we can’t see where we are going.”

“I see no problem with that”, said Fenris, who had mostly stayed silent through the arguing so far. 

“I can light the way.”

All three fell silent and turned to look at Anders. He was sitting on some rocks again, rubbing his temples one-handedly. With a few coughs and a sniffle, he looked up to face the others.

“What ever you are suggesting doesn’t sound like a good plan”, Hawke said. “You are ill and already exhausted, you shouldn’t strain your body further.”

“I’m serious, Hawke. We are almost there and a bit of fire magic isn’t too big of a strain.”

“You aren’t going to start glowing blue on us?” Fenris asked, his tone as snarky as ever. Anders gave him a side-eyed glance and a short “no” for an answer. They all fell silent again, pondering all of their far from ideal options. On one hand waiting there wasn’t going to do any good to any of them and they might be risking hypothermia by doing so, but on the other hand walking in the pitch black night or making a sick and already strained mage conjure lights of any kind for the better part of an hour didn’t sound like good plans either.

“You said it isn’t that big of a strain: won’t the rain or the wind affect it?” Aveline finally asked.

“I can make it work”, was all Anders said in response.

They exchanged a look of resignation. Out of all the bad options Anders suggestion seemed to be the best. 

Anders did, indeed, make it work. Hawke didn’t know how he did it (then again he didn’t understand magic as well as he maybe should have) but the flames he conjured stayed unaffected by the forces of nature. They burned bright and steady if you didn’t count the flickering and badly contained expanding and contracting that Anders’ coughs and sneezes caused. 

Hawke had expected the fires would draw unwanted attention in the darkness of night, and maybe they had the rain to thank for it, but they got to Kirkwall with no trouble. Despite what he’d said Anders looked exhausted when they got there. He hid it well enough until Fenris and Aveline had left their company but the facade started faltering soon after.

“Are you all right?” Hawke asked when Anders suddenly stopped walking.

“Just tired”, Anders responded. He rubbed his eyes, then the bridge of his nose. “I thought I’d walk you home but I might need to go straight back to the clinic instead. Sorry.”

“I thought you would be coming to the mansion.”

Hawke gave Anders a stern look. Anders looked back at him with a torn and somewhat sad expression.

“Hawke, I can’t. I’ve already been enough of a burden”, Anders said. “And I’ve been away from the clinic too long. I need to see it’s still there.”

“And what would you do with any potential patients? Infect them with the plague?”

Anders took in a deep breath as if to continue arguing. He held it in for a few seconds, then let it out in a sigh and a small fit of coughs. Hawke took that as a sign of resignation.

“How does a nice, warm bath and something warm to eat sound like?” Hawke asked to further prompt Anders to accept his offer. A small but warm smile drew on Anders’ lips.

“Sounds like something we both might need”, Anders said.

Orana was up when they got to the estate. She appeared at the top of the stairs when she heard the door close, taking one look at both Hawke and Anders before announcing she would go prepare the bath for them. Hawke hardly had time to thank her before she was gone.

There was a fire in the fireplace in Hawke’s room when they got there. Hawke quietly thanked Orana’s timing at heating up the rooms. It would take some time for the bath to be ready but now they could warm up by the fire while they waited if they so wanted. Hawke was quick to strip off his armour and he clothes underneath, setting them to dry where ever there was room. He pulled on his nightshirt and handed Anders the one he’d borrowed on his latest visit (which Hawke, of course, still had by his bed). 

Anders was slower to take off the wet clothes, his hands trembling from both the cold and the exhaustion so much it made it hard to unfasten his robes. He shed everything he had on him by Hawke’s chair, put on the nightshirt and joined Hawke where he had sat down by the fire. While getting out of the wet clothes and by the fire had warmed Hawke up nicely, Anders was still shivering violently. After one pitiful attempt at sniffling he pressed one shirt covered wrist against his nose and left it there.

“I have handkerchiefs, you know”, Hawke said and got up to get one. He dropped it on Anders, who picked it up just in time to sneeze wetly into it. He tried to sniffle again but air got through the congestion so he blew his nose instead. It hardly helped with the congestion but left the handkerchief in ruins. He had a moment to breath before submitting to another fit of productive coughs.

“You better not have caught your death. Seriously, I can’t afford to lose you”, Hawke said. 

“I admit I could have done without all the walking and rain today”, Anders said. Hawke raised his arm in an inviting gesture and Anders leaned against him, relaxing under Hawke’s embrace. “But I’m not going to die, Hawke.”

Hawke could feel the heat of a fever under Anders’ still cool skin. He breathed through parted lips and had to keep the handkerchief pressed against his leaking nose, and every now and then Hawke could hear the rattle of congestion in his chest, but his breathing didn’t seem laboured and he was fully conscious and had the energy to move around and chat. For now Hawke wasn’t too concerned but he was a little worried of how his condition would develop. 

Before Hawke could voice his worries Orana knocked on the door to inform them the bath was ready. Hawke thanked her and after a short exchange on what she should prepare for them to eat, she left the two of them alone. Hawke stood up and helped Anders on his feet, too. He fetched a couple of fresh handkerchiefs for Anders to take with (just in case the bath would set loose the congestion) before they left for the bath.

Orana had added some herbs in the water and set a pair of clean nightshirts and a washcloth on a stool besides the bath. The bath wasn’t really meant for two adult men to bath together but they fit in well enough. Maybe their legs were a little tangled and rubbing the grime off of their bodies was a little hard but they could still enjoy the relaxing warmth together.

That is until the steam did just what Hawke had anticipated. Anders sat up from his half-lying position against Hawke and grabbed one of the handkerchiefs from where he had left them. With a few hitching breaths he shot forward into it with a sneeze. He blew his nose then sneezed again. After another blow he resumed his earlier position against Hawke. He kept the handkerchief pressed against his nose and he kept trying to sniffle.

They didn’t stay in the bath for a long time despite how nice the warmth was. Anders may have been bad at self-care but he had enough sense in him to not overheat his already fevered body. They dried themselves on towels and put on the clean clothes, returning to Hawke’s room. Orana had visited there while they were in the bath: there was a fresh stack of handkerchiefs waiting on the bed and two steaming bowls of soup waiting on the table. They sat down on the bed to eat. Orana appeared by the room again soon after they had finished eating to make sure they had all they needed. She took the cups with her when she left.

Hawke watched as Anders spread his gear out a little better to dry and put a selection of herbs on Hawke’s desk with quickly scribbled instructions in case his fever got too high and Hawke would need to bring it down. Something about the gesture made Hawke smile. He was sure Anders felt terrible and wanted to just lie down and sleep off the illness yet he still went through all the what ifs and made preparations to ease Hawke’s burden. 

When Anders was done with the preparations, Hawke slipped under the covers. He invited Anders to join him, wrapping an arm around him again once they were both in bed. Anders responded by inching closer and putting his own hand on top of Hawke’s chest. Hawke knew from experience that Anders tended to be touch-starved, and it wasn’t like he got a lot of gentle, affectionate contact in his life either. Feeling Anders’ body against him complete with mutual embrace made Hawke feel more relaxed than he had in a while. It was like some tangles in his brain got loosened by the touch, and he felt himself melt into the bed. He stayed silent, listening to Anders’ congested breathing and fruitless sniffles, the way he from time to time would swallow to combat the dryness breathing through his mouth caused. Despite Anders’ illness he felt cosy in their moment of domestic peace.

Anders shifted a little when he started to cough again. He tried to cut the fit short but the congestion in his chest would allow him that. In the end he sat up to find a better position and was still left out of breath by the time the fit ended. He had pressed one hand on his chest and used it to rub the ache as he eased himself back under the covers.

“I really should sleep elsewhere this night”, he muttered against Hawke’s side. “My cough will keep you up all night.”

“Then it will. I will rather stay up with you all night than have you suffer alone somewhere”, Hawke responded. He planted a kiss on Anders temple and got up from the bed. “I’ll get you a jug of water. It won’t take long.”

It took Hawke a few of minutes to fetch the jug and when he returned Anders was already snoring in the bed. He put the water down on the bedside table and lay back down under the covers.

Anders’ fever spiked that night. Hawke woke up a few hours after they’d gone to bed to him shifting restlessly in his sleep, immediately noticing the heat radiating off of him.

“Anders. Anders wake up”, Hawke called to him, shaking him by the shoulder. It took a few tries to wake Anders up and a moment for Anders to figure out what was happening. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Anders turned to look at Hawke.

“Sorry. Greywarden dreams”, Anders mumbled. Either his voice was affected by the sleep or he had lost what little of it had remained.

“Your fever’s gone up”, Hawke said, putting his hand on Anders’ burning forehead as if to emphasise his point. Anders hummed in agreement.

“I can tell. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Shall I prepare the potion?”

“Mm. A cool cloth would nice, too.”

Hawke stood up and left the room, making his way through the estate in a hurry. Logically he knew he could have just as well walked, what ever time he might save by hurrying wouldn’t make a difference, but he didn’t want to waste time. He got to the kitchen, making fire and putting some water to heat up. He filled a bucket with fresh water and fetched a washcloth, happy to see the water starting to boil when he returned. He filled a cup with the hot water (it wasn’t as much a potion as it was an infusion of medical herbs, but according to Anders it would do the trick) and grabbed the bucket and returned to Anders.

Anders was sitting up on the bed, apparently attempting to clear both his nose and his lungs of all the mucus at the same time. He had shed the nightshirt and the blankets only covered him from hips down. He continued his cycle of coughing and blowing his nose while Hawke threw the herbs in the water and stirred it. The drink would need to set for a few minutes before it was done, and Hawke used that moment to take the bucket and the washcloth to Anders.

Hawke sat down on the bed on Anders’ side, waiting patiently for the latest coughing fit to die down. The cough seemed to be worse, too, leading to almost breathless fits. When he dared to breath again Anders gave his nose one final blow before setting handkerchief down. Hawke took the washcloth, squeezing most of the excess water out, and handed it to Anders.

“I’m sorry I woke you up”, Anders said as he pressed the cloth against his forehead.

“You already apologised. Besides there’s nothing to apologise for”, Hawke said. He planted a reassuring hand on Ander’s leg, looking him in his fever glazed eyes.

“I don’t want to burden you.”

“Burden me? Maker’s breath… You are not burdening me by allowing me to look after you.” 

Anders looked at Hawke as if inspecting him. If nothing else this conversation confirmed to Hawke that he was still lucid despite the fever which made Hawke feel a little more at ease. 

“I suppose I have to get used to the idea”, Anders finally said, making Hawke wonder how long it had been since someone had cared for him like this. 

Anders set the washcloth down when Hawke got him the potion. His hands were unsteady but enough to prevent him from downing the drink on his own. He gave the empty cup back to Hawke and lied down on the bed, spreading the cloth over his face.

Hawke lay down next to him, pulling the covers up on his side. The were both silent but Hawke could tell Anders was still awake.

“Anders?”

“Mm?”

“Next time you get sick please say something before it gets this bad.”


End file.
